That I spent a few minutes Googling how Americans celebrated Christmas after Pearl Harbor is indicative of the impact on my holiday spirit of the recent violent news cycle. I know I’m not alone in that sentiment.
And, as it always does, the past sheds light on the future. Thank you, history.
The Christmas of 1941 was just weeks after the devastating surprise attack on the Pacific Fleet. I can’t imagine how Americans managed to inject any joy into their homes in the wake of that harbinger of immense loss and grief. Yet they did.
None other than Winston Churchill, who traveled to America in the immediate aftermath, showed the way. The British prime minister joined President Roosevelt in the lighting of the national Christmas tree and exhorted: “Let the children have their night of fun and laughter. Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play. Let us grown-ups share to the full in their unstinted pleasures before we turn again to the stern task and the formidable years that lie before us, resolved that, by our sacrifice and daring, these same children shall not be robbed of their inheritance or denied their right to live in a free and decent world.”
What wisdom. Thank you, Mr. Churchill.
Personal loss and hardship as well as national and global tragedies shape this season for many as well. I had never really listened closely to the words of Joni Mitchell’s “River” but it seems to capture the feeling of trying to hold the magic of the season while carrying grief. “It’s coming on Christmas. They’re cutting down trees. They’re putting up reindeer. And singing songs of joy and peace. Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on.”
Who hasn’t had that exact feeling at some point? Thank you for giving us words for it, Ms. Mitchell.
My brother, who is skating away this Christmas to the Florida Keys, likes to tease me that I should put a subhead on my columns reading “Everything will be okay: Depressing Marbleheaders since 2022.” Ha ha and thank you for the always-pointed humor, Bill!
But adding to our emotional load is not my point, at least not today! I’m actually in awe
of those who, as Churchill put it, “share to the full” in the season despite their circumstances.
How do they do it?
A contemporary British public figure seems to have put his finger on it. Andy Coulson, a former spokesman for 10 Downing Street who endured his own downfall, hosts the global podcast “Crisis What Crisis” with new episodes dropping every week. His guests embody what he calls “lessons in resilience when life unravels.”
A recent guest was Amanda Knox, wrongfully imprisoned for murder in Italy, but many are people you wouldn’t know but can relate to as they share their stories of addiction, health crisis,
sudden loss of a loved one, or career debacle. At the end of each interview, Coulson asks his guests for three “crisis cures” — in other words what were their top tools for not only surviving their crisis but transforming it. I hope someday that Coulson compiles all of these tips in a book, but meanwhile check out the podcast when you need a reminder that it is possible to bear the unbearable. That so many of our fellow human beings do so is heartening, no, actually it’s miraculous. Thank you, Mr. Coulson.
Back to Churchill and Roosevelt. During their cables back and forth arranging for that post-attack Christmas visit, each commented that their countries were “in the same
boat.” The tales of resilience captured by Coulson, your own and those you know personally, are a reminder that we are indeed all in this same boat called the human experience. Life can be very, very hard, yet we push forward. What better season to reflect on what unites rather than divides than Christmas?
You’ve noticed I’ve extended thanks throughout this column. I’d like to close by sharing a practice I’m trying each morning as my own “crisis cure.” For the last few weeks, as soon as I open my eyes in the morning, before I grab my phone, before I open the blinds, before I move to start the day, I’ve been saying a prayer of gratitude. But rather than just thanking God for my blessings (or the universe or whatever higher power you pray to, if you do), I list specifically what I’m grateful for in that moment. In doing so, I’m trying to stay aware that life’s gifts are not so much bestowed but instead something that we have to work at daily in tandem with a force we don’t really understand but believe is there. It’s a peaceful, hope-filled way to start the day and I have a feeling this gratitude practice feeds resilience.
One final thank you, to you, dear Current readers. I hope you and yours are able to “share to the full” in the light of this beautiful season.
Virginia Buckingham is a former president of the Marblehead Current board of directors, a frequent commentator on WCVB’s On the Record and author of “On My Watch A Memoir.” She is working on a second memoir, “As This Mountain” in her newly empty nest and writes a biweekly column for the Current.
